One ought to pay tribute
To friends dearly missed,
But if they are astute
and remind you a-boot
their leaving, then miss them you can't.
If they have no job
Because of qualities too odd and wondrous then what should one do?
I shant write how I sob
and mourn how I've been robbed
of camaraderie because he's in town every Thursday.
When he arrives I drink beer
and see folks I find fun and exciting as much as sir Greg,
But while I hold them dear,
They all live right here,
And in truth I never ever see them anyway.
So Greg please don't be sad
That we forget to remember you've shipped off for better horizons and basements.
You'd be much less glad
If we wrote really bad
poetry about you on the Internet.
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